A while back I was thinking about the kids I know in Ukraine.
At first it is a physical feeling - a downward pull somewhere in the center of me. And then it becomes tears sliding into my hair from the corners of my eyes as I lay staring at the white stucco of the ceiling. I am not yet crying, but there are tears. Or maybe I am crying, it just has not yet reached past my eyes to the rest of me. And then I am crying - all of me, no longer just my eyes. The sobs coming from that somewhere in the center of me. It's hard to identify the source of these tears. Am I only just missing them? Longing to touch and to hold them? Am I hurting for them all over again? These would not be the first tears I have shed for their pain. I go to their pictures, searching their faces for an answer. They are all so beautiful.